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Thou on whose lips the word of Love became A rapt evangel to assuage all wrong, Not Love alone, but the austerer name Of Death engaged the splendours of thy song. The luminous grief, the spacious consolation Of thy supreme lament, that mourned for him Too early haled to that still habitation Beneath the grass-roots dim,-- Where his faint limbs and pain-o’erwearied heart Of all earth’s loveliness became a part,